Like threaded rubies on its stem,
In the hid spot she loved so well;
Still bloom wild roses brave and fair,
And like a bubble borne in air
Floats the shy Mariposa’s bell.
Like torches lit for carnival,
The fiery lilies, straight and tall,
Burn where the deepest shadow is;
Still dance the columbines cliff-hung,
And like a broidered veil outflung